Another Old Floria Word Game

My Dad (Vern Floria) enjoyed twisting or playing with words and sentences. From time to time he would walk around the house and mutter the following little poem.

The shades of night were falling slow
The old man slipped and fell in a hole.

Or, if there were no women around you might hear:

The shades of night were falling slow,
The old man fell on his asshole.

Or, you might hear:

The shades of night were falling fast
The old man slipped and fell on the grass.

Or, if there were no women around you might hear:

The shades of night were falling fast,
The old man slipped and fell on his ass.

Just a poem he apparently made up, at least I've not heard it any place else.